Blackberry Raspberry ‘Cheese’cake (paleo, AIP, vegan)

Inga hurried through the empty gray streets, her blowsy skirt caught by an unseen gust of wind. The sun had set and in half an hour soldiers would be grabbing her by the arm and demanding her papers. She gripped a parcel close to her chest and sped over the wet cobblestones. Soon the prison blocks rose before her, crowning Grandpa Nikolay’s former grazing pastures. Up at the guardhouse a young soldier gazed at her, unsmiling. She waited, hoping for a faint glimmer of recognition, gold that had passed from her hands to his, in the soldier’s hard blue eyes. An imperceptible nod later, she was able to slip through a crack in the iron gates. Inga ran to the stone headquarters building, where a line of women wearing threadbare linen hovered with their own parcels.

“Advance!” The line crawled forward, the women bowing their heads and submitting their packages to scrutiny.

“You,” said a tall captain, as Inga approached. “What is that?” He pointed to her parcel.

“A cake,” replied Inga. “For my husband.”

“Open it.”

She unwrapped the wax paper and laid the cake on the inspection table.

“Very pretty,” remarked the captain dryly. “But I do not recognize it as one of your provincial foods. How did you manage to make a cake, with no sugar and cream since the war started?” Implied in his words was the cloud of a hard labor sentence from black market trading.

“It is an imitation,” replied Inga quickly. “I used whatever ingredients I had, meaning only to please my husband.”

The Captain’s expression did not change. “Who is he?”

“Andris Jansons,” replied Inga.

The Captain turned and muttered something in his own language to his men.

“It is too good for a rebel like him,” he announced. “My men will eat it.” He removed his knife from its sheath and prepared to cut the cake in half.

“Please sir,” begged Inga. “Could I not show it to my husband first, so he can see my efforts? Then you and your men can have it all. I promise he will not touch it.”

The Captain appeared to find the prospect of showing a hungry man food he could not eat sufficiently punishing. He waved her forward and Inga entered the open prison yard, where bearded men in soiled jumpsuits talked quietly with their visitors. Across the room a pair of dark green eyes found hers. A moment later she was in her husband’s arms.

“No contact!” A soldier reached down and forced them apart. Her husband flushed but bit back his anger, looking instead at the cake.

“You’ve done well, love,” he said to Inga. She looked at him carefully.

“You have it?”

“Yes,” said Andris. He glanced at the Captain, who had come up from behind and was observing them closely. A moment later, the Captain broke off a large hunk of cake, and ate it in front of them.

“Peasant food,” he said. “But still too good for vermin.” He gestured and a soldier whisked the cake away. Another seized Andris, who exchanged a last piercing glance with Inga before disappearing into the holding room.

The next day, Inga paced around the cottage, glancing out the window and twisting her hands. She saw a towheaded youth sprinting through their field, and ran out to meet him.

“Did it work?” she asked breathlessly.

The youth nodded, gasping for air. “He left at midnight. They are safe in the woods hideout.”

Inga collapsed onto the soft grass in relief. “Thank God.”

“How did you manage to let him know, with all those soldiers watching?” asked the boy.

“It was on the cake,” said Inga. “The colors, symbolizing us and the enemy, laid out in ancient pagan lines. He knew.”

The boy just shook his head admiringly. “You must come with me. The Captain is furious. They are headed here now.”

Inga was ready. She hoisted her small bag of belongings and followed the boy through the fields. As they trekked into the woods towards the camp, the birds and forest creatures seemed to echo their refrain of resistance.

This cheesecake can either be no-bake or bake - baking the filling produces a denser texture and some browning. If you decide to bake it, pour the filling over the raw crust and bake for 50 mins to 1 hour at 350 Fahrenheit, until the top has browned slightly. Place in refrigerator overnight to set.

How wonderful! I am loving your writing! I can’t wait to try making this cheesecake tonight when I get home. I’m sure my kids will be delighted to have such a lovely treat. 😀 Thank you for the lovely story & recipe!

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